Hollywood is a place where they'll pay you a thousand dollars for a kiss, and fifty cents for your soul. Never a truer word spoken, growing up between Hollywood and Manhattan was never an easy task. You where either somebody or you where nobody, there was never an in-between. Kendell hated the place but as much as she hated where she came from and where she lived she couldn’t move away it was as if the city had taken her soul, turned her into somebody else and she would never survive on the outside World. All she knew was fake and plastic.

It was one of those places you’d expect to see in a bad gangster movie. The long bar made from a mahogany rip off, the tiled floor chipped and cracked, a law suit waiting to happen. The off color white paint on the walls chipped away, like dead skin peeling from concrete bones. The owner had tried to add a touch of class to the place by hanging up framed photographs of famous celebrities, Tom Cruise’s face staring out through the cigarette smoke stained glass only added to the cheapness of this bar, sitting in the city of angels it was the perfect cliché. It was surreal though to think that to step outside you would be stepping on the names of some of Hollywood’s greatest. The bar should have come with a warning on the door, ‘Step out of the California sun and into a place of empty souls, dead hopes and shattered dreams’.

Kendell was no different, apart from her youth she fit this genre of people perfectly although the expensive designer sunglasses she wore hid the emptiness in her eyes from the rest of the World. She surveyed the crowd of drinkers as she slipped into one of the booths towards the back of the bar, the red leather for the chair beginning to peel away, she simply pushed it out of her way and sat down on her own with the only friend in the World that meant anything to her, Jack Daniels, sitting on the table in front of her. She watched the men lined along the bar as they drank away their sorrows, each with their own story of lost hope and she wondered to herself when each of these people realised that life was only blissful for the ignorant. She raised the glass of whiskey to her scarlet red lips and drank, letting the haze of strong alcohol sweep over her and for a second letting it help her forget who she was and what she had done and where she had come from. It was that feeling that had led her to drink a little more alcohol than was the social norm but she was never one to live by the rules of others, she wouldn’t be the girl that acted out her part in the drama of life the way others expected her to. She had learned at a young age that this life was just a stop over until she went to hell that was of course if she wasn’t already in it.

She didn’t believe in learning from her own mistakes and instead the mistakes of others had been what had shaped and moulded her into the apathetic twenty something that now sat in a bar on Sunset Boulevard.

She took another sip of her drink, sniggering to herself as she thought about the pathetic dreams her people have in Los Angeles and how when realism hit home it must have be a shock for them all to realise that the city of blinding lights holds nothing for the meagre. Nothing in this life came from for free, you could either be a good person or have your dreams come true, you couldn’t have both. To be a success in this town you had to forget your morals, morals where for the poor.

She raised her eyes to the front door of the bar, where the Southern California sun danced along the tiled floor as it found a way to creep in through the dirty cracked glass on the door. The door swung opened slightly, she watched, expecting to see another lost soul enter the bar, someone aged, with life’s disappointments etched across their face. Instead walked a man, tall with Californian blonde hair and sun kissed tanned skin. His smile lighting up his fresh and handsomely chiselled face. He looked as if he where a long long way from home. An out of Towner, no doubt, she hadn’t seen a person from Hollywood smile like that ever, unless they where banging a few thousand dollars worth of snow up their nose.

He walked with confidence to the bar, smiling at the bar man and ordering a drink while the bar man just looked back at him and grunted apathetically, not impressed by the tourist stepping foot in his corner of hell. Kendell watched him as he moved. There was something familiar about him, she was sure she had seen him somewhere before but couldn’t quite place his face. She assumed she must be imagining things she knew if she had of seen this fresh faced man before she’d remember.

She watched as he took his drink from the bar man with a winning smile and turned around taking a seat at the bar. Kendell took another sip from her glass of whiskey still fixated on the young man at the bar. He had noticed her too. As he turned to have a quick glance around the bar his eyes stopped upon her before looking away and looking back at her once again. Her high cheek bones, sallow skin and dark hair gained her a lot of attention. She wasn’t the typical Californian blonde with a year round tan. He sent a smile in her direction and she couldn’t help but smile back, after all she rarely came into contact with people outside her profession that where the same age as her anymore.

She watched as his attention would occasionally drift from his drink back to her, like he was caught in a trance he couldn’t help but continuously turn his attention back in her direction. She stopped looking at him now and once again focused on the drink sitting right in front of her. With a deep exhale of breath she took the glass to her lips.

She looked down at her leg which was slightly swollen because of her run in with Curt Evans just a few weeks beforehand, it had been worth it though, the bruises, the injuries, they where all badges of honour she wore with pride along with the gold belt she wore around her waist after she had demolished Curt. She was still a bit sceptical about stepping into the ring this week, pressure on her injuries still had her yelping in pain but sitting at home or sitting in a bar day in day out was driving her spare, she had to do something or her mind would begin to wander.

She didn’t know much about Jason Silver but after being at the top of her game just a few weeks before she knew an injury wouldn’t stop her from taking him on and showing him what a champ was, she would school him in the ways of a winner, leave him mystified at the fact that a woman beat his ass. However, she was in a giving mood lately and would perhaps let Jason touch her belt as long as he promised to wash his hands of failure first.

His shadow across the table brought her back to reality as she raised her face to the handsome young man and smiled, removing her sunglasses and extending her hand as a warm hello. He returned her greeting before asking could he take the seat face her. She was never one to turn down company especially when she noticed the diamond encrusted Rolex watch on his right wrist. It was at that moment that she became intrigued.

Kendell Smith: “So what’s your name handsome? You don’t look like you come to places like this too often.”

Man: “My names Mark Jones and you’re right I’m not from around these parts at all and I can tell by your accent that neither are you.”

Kendell Smith: “I’m a New Yorker born and bred. I’m over her on a little vacation.”

Mark Jones: “I’m from Virginia I’m just down her on business for the next week.”

He informed her that he was a professional wrestler who had dropped up to Hollywood while performing in the Staples Center for his west coast fans. She couldn’t help but smile; professional wrestling must have been how she recognised him. She began to tell him how she herself was a wrestler, all be it probably a better one than he. It broke the ice as they both threw stories back and forth about their wrestling experience. He was fascinated by her that much was obvious as he continuously complimented her telling her how much he respected women who actually fought in the ring instead of walking a man down to the ropes.

Mark Jones: “So, I’ve just realise I’ve yet to ask you your name.”

Kendell Smith: “My name is Kendell, you obviously know little about wrestling if you don’t recognise me.”

Mark Jones: “On the contrary I could never forget that face but though by pretending I didn’t recognise you I was playing it cool, I guess I wasn’t.”

Kendell Smith: “I don’t know Mark; you’re not doing a bad job.”

Mark Jones: “Well that’s good to know since deep down I am petrified to be sitting in front of such a pretty and talented woman.”

She found his sickeningly sweet attitude nauseating but she continued to play little miss sweetheart as she always did. If there was anything in life she had become perfect at it was manipulating men to do what she wanted and Mark Smith would be no different. Truth be told if it wasn’t for the diamonds on his wrist she would have lost interest the minute he told her he was a professional wrestler. She had no time for wrestlers anymore, she was on the road with them constantly and she found them all the same, over confident and unable to back up their mouth. She liked men with power and money and although he had the money he was on the opposite side of the railings to her.

She could tell she had already lured him in as he occasionally brushed against her hand while reaching for his drink and never took his eyes from here. He told her how he was actually thirty two although she wouldn’t have given him a day over twenty four. Youth danced across his face and even his bright eyes showed no sign of aging.

He began to tell her why he loved California and how the sun made for a change from his home town in Virginia. Kendell just smiled and listened letting his words slide in one ear and out the other, not really concerned as to why he liked the California weather, it meant nothing to her she wasn’t one to indulge in small talk. Instead she excused herself from the table, smiling politely like a good girl always did as he made his way to the bar to buy them both drinks and she made her way to the ladies room to powder her nose.

As she stepped into the dimly lit and badly kept washroom her mind drifted to the man at the bar buying them both drinks. Was she so good an actress that he couldn’t see through her nice girl façade or was he just like every other ignorant soul, looking for somebody to accompany him through life. With a twenty five thousand dollar watch on his wrist you better believe she was some what interested. After all fucking for love was what idiots did, love was an emotion made up by hallmark to sell greeting cards and fuzzy hearts once a year, reality was not so warm and fuzzy.

She opened her purse and took out the small plastic bag, untying the top and reaching her long slender fingers deep into the pocket of her denim jeans pulling out a shiny fifty cent coin and smiling. She dipped the coin into the small plastic bag, dusting it with a white substance and bringing it to her nose, closing her eyes and inhaling hard through one nostril. She opened her eyes widely, smiling and looking at herself in the mirror, feeling the bitter taste of the powder hit the back of her throat and made its way into her system.

Her eyes where a light blue an almost a steely grey color, the type of eyes with a story but the type of eyes that were hard to read. As she stared at herself in the mirror she couldn’t help but be surprised at what stared back at her. She wondered when she had begun to look so old, so grown up. Her teens where well behind her and even in her early twenties you could tell from her eyes she had been through more than most could imagine. She broke her stare away from her own reflection and packed the plastic bag back into her purse; looking around the toilet momentarily and wondering what it was that had brought her to places like this on a daily basis. Lord knew it wasn’t the sophistication of the place, or the cleanliness for that matter.

She pushed open the door of the ladies room and stepped back out in the bar. Small clouds of smoke danced around her as she made her way back to the table amidst curious stares from the other regular punters. Most would recognise her as being the young girl, barely legal, who sat at the back of the bar and kept to herself, never uttering a word to the other customers or staff unless it was to other her usual or a shooter on special occasions. They couldn’t help but wonder why on this day she had chosen to share her company with a man that looked like he had taken a wrong turn.

He welcomed her back to the table with a smile and some kind words we she reciprocated half heartedly. She never cared for compliments, probably because she had grown accustomed to hearing them, they held no novelty with her anymore but she blushed and said thank you because it was the right thing to do and she knew she had to play her cards right with this one. This man was looking for somebody he could bring home to his mother and if that’s what he wanted then that’s what he would get even if she did need the help of alcohol and recreational drugs.

He continued on telling her how beautiful she was and how it was a breath of fresh air to meet somebody in the same business as he was who still kept her intelligence and her morals. Morals, hadn’t Kendell lost those a long time ago? In fact she was sure if you looked up immoral in the dictionary there would be a picture of her smiling with a glass of whiskey in hand.

After sitting there smiling for what seemed like an eternity she knew it was getting late when the sun stopped shining through the cracked stained glass of the door, and her usual late night alcohol buzz started to kick in. She glanced over her shoulder at the clock behind the bar realising it was coming up to midnight. He smiled at her, offering to bring her home promising that he would be a complete gentleman. She had no doubt he would keep his promise after all he saw her as some sort of siren, but didn’t they all until she took them for everything they had?

Kendell Smith: “What if I don’t want you to be a gentleman?”

Mark Jones: “Well then… I may be stuck for a response.”

Kendell Smith: “What if instead I told you that I had been a very good girl for the past seven months and tonight was the night I wanted to break that routine.”

She leaned in close to his ear.

Kendell Smith: “What if I told you Mark, that I want you to bring me into the ladies room, bend me over the sink and treat me like the bad girl I have forgotten that I am.”

She watched as he swallowed hard, obviously stuck for words at her sudden change of character. Kendell was getting tired playing the nice girl act, she had sat talking to him for one reason and one reason only, she was sick of knowing that Danny Raymond was the last man she had slept with, and she was tired of pining over the mistakes she had made.

Kendell Smith: “Mark tomorrow night I have to take on Jason Silver in my first match as champion and I could do with blowing of some steam, you know how it is, you shouldn’t walk into the ring with any pent up anxiety so don’t think of it as fucking a girl you just met, think of it as helping a fellow wrestler prepare for their match.”

She stood up from the table as he stared at her with a look of pure shock and awe on his face before standing up too and following her to the ladies room.